


Everything's (Not) Okay

by trrafalgarlaw



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, Manga Spoilers, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 14:41:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6119659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trrafalgarlaw/pseuds/trrafalgarlaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>**(Manga Spoilers)** Nekoma High School vs Fukurōdani Academy (0:2 / 21-25, 28-30). Kuroo Tetsuro lost. He let his team down. He let himself down. Now what?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything's (Not) Okay

**Author's Note:**

> I AM STILL SO SAD ABOUT THIS.

Tsukishima sat in class, clicking his pen anxiously against the top of his desk. He sighed and looked out the window, thinking the weather nice. The sun sat high in the sky and the wind pushed white clouds across the vast expanse of blue. The air was nice and light, and the window at the back of the classroom was open. When the wind blue, it ruffled the soft strands of blonde hair against Tsukishima’s neck. He shivered. It was the first warm day they had had, and Tsukishima was adjusting to not wearing the black uniform jacket.

He sighed. He looked back to the board, the English words written in neat handwriting made sense, so he looked to the clock. The game should be starting soon. He bit the inside of his lip and watched the second hand move around the clock in a fluid motion. He let his pen fall to his desk and he leaned back in the chair, grabbing his phone from the front pocket of his black pants. Normally, he wasn’t one to text in class, but this was important.

**Me**  
_Good luck you shitty captain. I expect to be seeing you at nationals._

He smirked. His phone buzzed and he glanced at the teacher before looking down at it.

**Kuroo**  
_Don’t be rude, Tsukki~_  
_But thanks. Don’t worry, you’ll be seeing me there._  
_And hopefully tonight for some victory sex. ;)_

Tsukishima read the message and rolled his eyes.

**Me**  
_I have practice._  
_Just win. I’ll come over this weekend or something._  
_You guys aren’t the only one’s working hard you know…_

Tsukishima felt like an idiot. He never wanted to turn into a Hinata or a Kageyama. And in truth, he didn’t think he was, but his passion for volleyball had been reignited, much to his disappointment. He sighed and looked back at the bored, his lips twitching into a smile.

**Me**  
_Text when you win._

**Kuroo**  
_Will do!_

**Me**  
_Good luck, Kuroo._

The messages ceased after that. Tsukishima went back to paying attention, and Kuroo, he was sure of, went back to preparing for his match. He took a deep breath in and gripped his pen a little bit tighter. Butterflies filled his stomach as questions of what if filled his mind. He shook his head. No. Nekoma would win. Kuroo would win.

\---

Hours passed. Tsukishima went through the motions of class, doing his work, and paying attention when needed. His phone had yet to vibrate in his pocket. He pushed his lips together and stood quickly after the final bell rang. As he walked to the gym, he pulled his phone from his pocket. He dialed Kuroo’s number quickly.

It rang.

And rang.

And rang.

“Hello.”

“Why didn’t you text?”

Silence. A deep breath. A choked sob.

“Kuroo?” Tsukishima’s movement stilled. He stopped by large windows, the sun beating down on him.

“We lost.”

Silence. Tsukishima’s grip tightened on his phone as he listened to Kuroo’s sniffling. It had always been the plan for Kuroo to meet them at nationals. It had always been the fucking plan. And now, just like that, it had been taken away.

It was selfish, but Tsukishima wanted to show Kuroo that he had grown. Tsukishima wanted to show Kuroo that his teaching didn’t fall on deaf ears.

“Okay.” Tsukishima finally spoke. “Okay.” He repeated, the word feeling foreign to him. He wanted to say something comforting. He wanted to help Kuroo. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t fucking think of anything. God, he was shit.

\---

He skipped practice. He told Daichi he wasn’t feeling well, and he went to the train station, bought a ticket, and left. By the time he arrived to Kuroo’s, his school uniform was wrinkled and his phone was dead. The sun had long since set, and the warm spring air turned to the bitter cold of winter. He shivered against a breeze and looked up at Kuroo’s home. All the lights were off except for one on the left.

He walked up the front steps and raised his hand, knocking loudly so Kuroo could hear it even when he was upstairs. Nothing. He knocked again. Nothing. Again. Finally, with some reluctance, the front door opened. Kuroo looked up at Tsukishima and Tsukishima stared back at Kuroo. Neither of them moved, and neither of them said anything.

“Tsukki?” Kuroo finally asked.

“You look like shit.” Tsukishima frowned, observing Kuroo from behind his glasses. The older man’s hair stuck up in different directions, as if he had run his hands through the thick strands over and over. His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, and the tip of his nose was red. His red Nekoma jacket was wrinkled and as he stood there, his long fingers kept grasping it and pulling at it.

Before Kuroo could respond, Tsukishima stepped in the house, kicked off his shoes and stepped into Kuroo. “You look like shit.” He repeated, wrapping his long arms around his muscular boyfriend. “You look like shit.” He breathed, his heart breaking at the sight before him. Tsukishima wrapped his long fingers into Kuroo’s hair. Kuroo gave into the touch and let his head fall into Tsukishima’s shoulder. His arms did not move to hug him back, but instead gripped the front of Tsukishima’s black uniform jacket.

He cried. He cried for a long time, loud ugly sobs rocking his body. And Tsukishima stood there, holding Kuroo to his chest as they stood in the doorway of Kuroo’s broken home. The light from the moon moved over the two of them, the light casting a white glow over their skin. There was nothing to be said, so nothing was.

Kuroo cried for a long time, and when he was finished, Tsukishima was sure it was just because Kuroo had no energy left to cry. Tsukishima stepped away from the embrace and forced Kuroo to throw an arm around his shoulders. Tsukishima helped Kuroo up the stairs, helped him undress, and helped him into bed.

“Parents?” Tsukishima asked.

“Not here.” Kuroo’s voice was hoarse.

“Coming back?”

“Who knows?”

“Okay.”

Tsukishima stood and tugged his school uniform from his body, folded it, and left it in a neat pile on the floor. He got in bed with Kuroo; he climbed over his body and squeezed himself in next to the wall, the place he usually slept. Tsukishima raised his hand and ran coarse fingers over Kuroo’s forehead, nose, cheeks, and mouth.

“Kei.”

“Hm?”

“It hurts.” Kuroo breathed heavily.

“I know.”

“I’m not able to play with my team anymore. I couldn’t lead them to nationals. I couldn’t do it. I failed.”

Silence. Kuroo began to cry again. It wasn’t loud and messy like before. It was quiet and Tsukishima felt warm tears against his fingertips.

“You didn’t.”

“I did!” Kuroo screamed, sitting up in bed, the sheet falling off his body. “I failed! I failed them! I fucking-” He screamed and gripped his face, hunching over.

“You didn’t.” Tsukishima muttered, looking up at the ceiling. His hand that previously rubbed Kuroo’s face fell to grip his boyfriend’s thigh. “You lead your team so far. You did everything you could have possibly done. They do not look at you as a failure. They never have. They never will.” He turned his head and looked at Kuroo through the darkness. “You lost, and it sucks. There’s no doubt about it – it fucking sucks. But life goes on. You will go to university, play on a new team, and Nekoma will continue to grow. Without you. But that isn’t to say you’ve done nothing for them. Look at how far you’ve come in three years? Look at everything you’ve done..” Tsukishima sat up and took Kuroo’s face in his hands. “You are an amazing captain, Tetsuro.”

“I wanted to play you. I wanted a battle of the trash heap. I wanted to win against you.”

Tsukishima smirked. “Me too.” Kuroo moved into Tsukishima, wrapping his arms around the smaller man. He breathed in and out slowly. Tsukishima listened to his labored breathing and sighed. “Don’t let this ruin you. You have so much going for you. Besides, I’m going to need your help if I’m going to block that shitty owl’s spikes.”

Kuroo laughed softly. “If I’m not able to beat him, you’re definitely not going to be able to beat him.” He pulled away from Tsukishima and looked down at him with that stupid provoking grin.

Tsukishima reached back, picked up a pillow, and shoved it into Kuroo’s face. “I should have stayed home.” He grumbled.

Kuroo took the pillow away from him and looked at Tsukishima with a large grin. Tsukishima smiled back at him.

Kuroo was going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> STILL REALLY SAD ABOUT THIS. 
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](http://trrafalgarlaw.tumblr.com/), [Twitter](https://twitter.com/KellyEsposito9), and [ Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/kellyesposito9/)!


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